


An Incident at the Astrolab...

by SwoodMaxProductions



Category: Dead Cells (Video Game)
Genre: Chloroform, Dom/sub Undertones, Drink Spiking, Dry Humping, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Forced Sedation, Gaslighting, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Non-Consensual Somnophilia, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Other, Overworking, Past Rape/Non-con, Power Dynamics, Psychological Torture, Psychological Trauma, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sadism, Sedation, Sexual Assault, Spoilers, The poor poor Collector..., This isn’t supposed to be “sexy” this is really fucked up and presented as such, Time Keeper finds out about horrible things, Unconsciousness, Vulnerability, Weakness, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:14:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26782723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SwoodMaxProductions/pseuds/SwoodMaxProductions
Summary: The King can and will do whatever he wants to whoever he wants. He’s not above killing his own men. He’s not above genocide. And he’s certainly not above doing terrible, terrible things to his poor, poor Royal Alchemist...Or, yet another reason the Beheaded should absolutely kill this bitch.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 15





	An Incident at the Astrolab...

**Author's Note:**

> After coming across a bunch of uh. Beheaded/Collector bondage stuff... my angst/whump/hurt-comfort potential sense went WAIT HEY MAX WHAT IF THE KING ACTUALLY DID SHIT LIKE THAT. WHAT IF THE COLLECTOR IS POSSIBLY HIDING DEADASS SEXUAL HARASSMENT TRAUMA.
> 
> And thus this idea crawled into my head and refused to leave.

The King waited. His orders to the lab assistant were clear: spike the Royal Alchemist’s tea… or be sent to the Depths. The scaly wretch was getting too comfortable, in his opinion. It was time to teach him a lesson.

He smirked at the telltale heavy thump of a body hitting the floor, and entered the Astrolab to find the Alchemist slumped on the floor, teacup still loosely clutched in his spindly hand. He was indeed unconscious, having succumbed to the drugged tea just as planned.

He could have gotten the Hand to do this, but the Hand didn’t know the meaning of the word “subtle”. And besides… he wanted to see. He wanted to bask in the power he wielded with impunity, his control, his dominance.

He had only planned on moving him. Just a bit of gaslighting… But now, the King realized, there were no witnesses. He could do whatever he pleased with the sedated Alchemist. A wicked grin began spreading across his face. He could do anything. Get away with anything. The idea was beginning to…  _ appeal _ to him. In a very primal sense.

Which wasn’t to say that he found the scaly blue sophisaurid  _ attractive.  _ Heavens, no. No, it was the  _ power.  _ The  _ dominance.  _ The Alchemist’s total helplessness was, quite frankly, turning him on. The way he lay limp in unknowing submission to him. The King was tempted. And whatever he wanted, he damn well got.

He pinned the Alchemist’s bony wrists above his head, more for his own entertainment than a method of restraint. He knew he didn’t need to— his reptilian vassal was thoroughly drugged— but damn, he felt like a god to do that to him. He lowered himself onto the unconscious scientist’s hips, reaching up to almost caress him, fingers running over the vital arteries in his exposed throat, lingering to feel the heartbeat just under the scaly skin, the sensation of the Alchemist’s life belonging to him. The Alchemist himself gave no response, utterly vulnerable in his drugged sleep.

The King was breathing harder now, rubbing himself up against the limp body beneath him. To his delight, the Alchemist groaned softly, squirming weakly and unknowingly rubbing the King off more. The King wallowed in his total dominance like a pig in mud, his Royal Alchemist’s feeble struggles making him hard as hell. It was good to be the king.

Maybe he’d been too greedy.

The Alchemist began to sluggishly open his eyes. The fact that he’d suffer no consequences, or that his poor nervous wreck of an alchemist would more than likely be too terrified to say anything to anyone, ever, didn’t occur to the King in his panic. Instead, he put his backup plan into motion.

The Alchemist’s brief foray into semiconsciousness was met with a wet cloth over his snout. He instinctively cried out, the sound smothered pathetically by the anesthetic-soaked muzzle, his talons fruitlessly kicking and clawing weakly at the air. He looked up in hazy fear into the eyes of the King, who figured it was time to finish.

The Alchemist certainly struggled as the King ground against him, but he was far too weak and disoriented to do anything but unwittingly assist in his own sexual humiliation. He was powerless to escape the will of the King and the sedative in his lungs. The King watched as his servant’s beady blue eyes were clouded more and more by the anesthetic, soon fluttering uncontrollably as unconsciousness began stealing him away once more. The King grinned. The last six Royal Alchemists had taught him a few tricks. Pity they had to die.

The pinned, drugged scientist moaned, pitiful and plaintive, into the cloth over his face. The King was brought to orgasm just as the poor Alchemist slipped back into unconscious oblivion. After a short time, the King pulled the cloth away, smirking at the Alchemist’s open-mouthed unconsciousness.

His breathing still heavy and his heart still racing, the King made sure to move the senseless scientist’s scrawny, slack body back into the position he’d originally fallen in. Recently, he  _ had _ begun developing an annoying tendency to faint…

Gaslighting it was.

~~~

The Time Keeper felt sick. She felt absolutely  _ sick. _ But it wasn’t just at the events of the past she had witnessed, though they definitely made her want to vomit. She couldn’t believe she hadn’t realized.

She couldn’t believe she’d been swayed by peer pressure to view the Alchemist with suspicion. Back then he was seen as a possible threat due to his distrust of the King. She now knew that it was because he knew the King better than any of them. It was him at the forefront of things, the first to suffer from the demented monarch’s demands for immortality and godhood.

And all while the court talked behind his back, the poor Alchemist…

Did he ever realize it wasn’t just a nightmare? 

And even after all the abuse he’d suffered, after everything, he still toiled away below to save the ragtag survivors, never resting, as always. He called himself the Collector these days. 

She needed to pay the poor sophisaurid a visit.

Maybe it wasn’t too late to patch things up.

Maybe she could be the friend he so desperately needed.

**Author's Note:**

> Please hug the poor science lizard. PROTECC HIM...


End file.
